


Fuck

by romanticalgirl



Series: Had a Bad Day [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 2000</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fuck

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 2000

The flash of lightning lit up the library, as it seemed to hit right above the skylight. Rupert Giles muttered under his breath as he pushed through the library doors. The rain had caught him off guard and so now he was thoroughly soaked. He took off his jacket and dropped it onto the chair.

The sopping wet tweed made a soft thud as it hit the wood. He cursed quietly and headed for his office. This day had started out bad and progressively gotten worse. He glanced at the clock on the wall. And it was only 8 am.

He slammed the office door shut and put on a pot of tea. He kicked his chair and tried to calm down. It was a simple storm, nothing to get worked up over. It was no problem. The coat would dry. And when it did it would no longer weigh the same as a small country.

Setting his glasses on his desk, he sank into his chair, rubbing his eyes. He was still damp and uncomfortable, but he'd have to live with it. He leaned back; rolling his neck to ease some of the tension, when the back snapped and he fell hard to the floor.

"Fuck!" he shouted. He struggled to stand, slamming his head against the filing cabinet. "Fuck!" He winced and cradled his head in his hands. He touched his head and groaned as his hand came away covered in blood. He grabbed his handkerchief and wiped his hands. Well, there was a waste of a good handkerchief.

He moved away from the cabinet and managed to get to his feet. Walking over to the hot plate, he picked up the teapot and grabbed his cup. He started pouring, stopping only when the room started spinning. He crumpled to the floor, the teapot shattering next to him.

"Fuck!" He moved away from the scalding water, but not before it soaked through his thin shirt. He scrambled to take off the shirt, the heat searing his skin. Ignoring the buttons, he pulled it from his waistband and yanked it over his head. It caught on his neck and jerked his head back. "Shit." He tugged at his tie and yanked it loose. Once that was done, he removed his oxford and undershirt and threw them across the room.

Deciding he'd spent too much time on the floor, he got to his feet and collapsed on the small sofa. He started to lean back but caught himself. No. No more bleeding, thank you very much. He struggled to get comfortable but couldn't manage it. What the hell was he going to do? He was trapped in this room. He couldn't leave without his clothes and there was no way he was going to be able to put them on in the near future. Hopefully no one would come in any time soon.

"Giles?"

Buffy's voice was followed quickly by Willow's. Wonderful. Just what he needed. Two beautiful teenage girls to walk in on him half-naked. This day could not get worse.

"Wesley? Oh, Buffy. Willow. Why am I not surprised to find you losers in the library?"

Cordelia as well. Wonderful.

"And that would explain your presence too then?" Willow asked.

"I'm going."

"Willow. You're getting better."

"I know. I just don't like seeing what she's doing to Xander. Even if he won't admit it."

Giles groaned. Great. Maybe they could discourse about the state of the fucking world while they were at it. Why couldn't they just go?

The bell rang and he heard them go. Sighing in relief, he stood up and walked over to his desk. The office seemed smaller than ever now that he was confined here. He righted his chair and sat on it gently. Well, the day wasn't completely lost. He could read. He could catch up on his correspondence. He could catch up on his Watcher's diaries, which he'd neglected horribly since being fired.

Picking up his journal, he opened to the last page and read it. Poor Buffy. How had she forgiven him? Had she forgiven him? Or had Wesley just become a common enemy? He smoothed the page back and reached for his bottle of ink.

"Mr. Giles?"

He jumped and the ink cascaded over the edge of his desk, landing firmly on his crotch. Clenching his teeth to keep from screaming, he hurriedly unbuckled his belt and slipped his pants off. Looking down at his briefs, he cursed silently and slipped the stained material off as well.

Great. Wesley was outside and he was locked in his office completely naked. "Bloody fucking hell," he whispered.

"Mr. Giles?" Wesley's voice came from right outside the door and Giles froze. Surely he'd made a mistake this morning and gotten up in hell? "Well, then. Why am I not surprised you're not here? Probably at home sleeping off the effects of a wild night."

"Prig," Giles whispered. "If I weren't naked I'd come out there and give you a sound thrashing."

"Well then, I'll just let myself in and see if I can find all the information you've been hiding from me."

Giles heard the jingle of keys and muttered a quiet prayer as he looked around for something to hide behind. Desk - bolted to the wall. File cabinet - too full to move. Couch - not quite. "Fuck."

He looked around and noticed he'd shed his pants into the pool of water from the teapot. He heard the lock turn and grabbed the nearest thing.

Wesley entered the office and stopped dead. Giles stood there, completely naked, holding a vase in front of him. A clear glass vase empty of flowers. "Mr. Giles…"

Willow and Buffy's voices filled the library and Giles wanted to cry. They stopped behind Wesley and froze as well. He cleared his throat and struggled for his voice. "Willow, no rose for my vase today?"

"That's probably a good thing, don't you think?" Buffy asked. "Thorns, you know."

Wesley grabbed the door handle and pulled the door shut, leaving Giles alone in his office. Buffy and Willow's soft giggles disappeared as Wesley quickly ushered them out of the library. Giles heard the door shut behind them and sighed with misplaced relief.

He raised the hand holding the vase up to wipe the perspiration off his brow and felt the glass slip out of his hand almost before it happened. It shattered on the floor and glass splinters embedded themselves in his legs and covered his clothes rendering them completely unwearable.

"Fuck."


End file.
